Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Koda, Dec 17, 2014.

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  1. Okren trudged down the muddy road, rain pouring down on top of him. His beard was soaked, and his armour was glistening. He was journeying to the lonely mountain, where a small town had already formed after the desolation of smaug. He hoped to start a new life there, and live in wealth and peace, with the occasional fight or two. He lugged his axe along with him, getting heavier and slower as the rain kept coming.

    Yulfus walked along the muddy rode cheerfully with his brown staff in hand. His brown cloak and hat were mysteriously dry, and the ground would dry up under his feet. The green orb at the top of his staff glowed. Rain increased its power, as it was an earth staff.
  2. Akur walked along cheerfully, his stocky and stubby legs slowly carrying him forward. Locks of red hair fell behind him as he hoisted his hammer over his shoulder, marching forward with the rest of the repair troop. The fortress had been recently reclaimed from the tyranny of Smaug, the dragon, and now it was their job to rebuild the fort as much as they could. Akur turned to his friends grinning and started to chat. "I'll race ya all there," he said, and broke into a run. At least as fast as he could go, which wasn't very fast. Still, the others were on his tail, but he managed to pull it off as first person there. He smiled and heartily laughed with the others as they stopped for breath. A general cheerful and joyous mood had overtook the entire cavern since it was taken back. They had thier homes back after all. This was their home

    Raknath groaned as he left his bed. Stumbling forward to the bench, he picked up his mug of mead and took a sip sighing. He yawned and stretched out his huge arms, careful not to knock over anything. He opened the door and stepped out into the cold morning air, the beautiful sun casting red and pink shadows as it slowly rose into the air. Birds chittered and animals foraged in peace. This was where he lived. An isolated mountain in a hut, where no pesky others would interrupt his business. They disliked him. He disliked them. He was... Different. He was very different to most common men. Raknath stretched his long legs and started walking towards the forest, as he suddenly morphed into a bear, huge and scary. Brown fur coated his body and sharp, strong claws decorated his paws. Except no beast or bird would be harmed. He grunted as he trotted off into the forest. He was quite different. He was a Beorning
  3. "AND STAY OUT!" Roared the burly orcish guard as he shoved Vertruk through the black gate. Vertruk scrabbled on the ground, slick with rain, desperately lunging toward the gate. "What is the meaning of this? I ought to call my lawyer-"
    The guard smacked the shaft of his axe across Vertruk's nose. "You don't have a lawyer, idiot!"
    A series of haranguing calls from the guard sent Vertruk running down the foothills of the barren mountain.
  4. Balamir felt as though his left ventricle would begin to protrude from his mouth, as flurrying light pinned him to the wall of Orthanc.
    Saruman the white stood before him, directing his staff in a lackadaisical manner, indifferent to Balamir's cries for mercy.
    Saruman contemplated this for a single palpable moment. His beam of magic died and Balamir's dropped, flaccid and sickly... yet alive. "I will give you one more chance. Dispose of the settlements."
    Balamir fastened his sword. "As you wish."
    He left Saruman's presence swiftly.
  5. The patrolling dwarven guard strode fluidly back and forth. Sometimes he questioned his job. It was the most dull occupation there was. Walk back and forth... that was all that was required of him.
    This monotonous routine was cruelly halted by a jagged scimitar through his sternum. He let out a wheeze of protest, turning to stare into the merciless, aureate eyes of his killer. An Uruk-Hai orc with many a chipped tooth, breastplate emblazoned with a chalky white hand. The dwarf slumped, devoid of life.
    Balamir strode in, patting the murderous orc on the back. "Excellent despatch! Could be better though."
    The orc growled maliciously.
    Balamir grinned. "Oh, I love you too." He gestured to the coterie of orcs that surrounded him. "Spread out. Secure every corridor, kill the king."
    Erebor was under attack.
  6. Okren arrived at entrance to Erebor, when he saw an orc take out a dwarvish guard. His eyes widened and he pulled a throwing axe out of its hilt, sending it towards the dwarves killer like a rocket.
  7. Balamir left the Uruk-Hai to their business. He had a mission of his own.
    He strode leisurely through the corridor. A dwarf approached him. That was inadvisable to say the least. It required Balamir nearly no effort to perform a precise gutting of the dwarf. Jugular to pelvis. A man (for many sought employment in Erebor) who had witnessed the murder yelped and sprinted down the hall. Balamir dislodged his bow from his back, notched an arrow, drew it back, let it go. The man fell with an arrow impaling the apex of his spine.
    No ruckus had arose. Balamir and his orcs had remained undetected.
  8. The orc gurgled, cried out and stumbled off of one of the catwalks, his dead body plunging into the accumulated wealth far below.
  9. Balamir reached the lowest of the many antechambers in Erebor, unfathomably deep into the mountain's jagged bowels. He lackadaisically tossed a vial of explosive liquid onto the ground. The incendiary bottle burst, obliterating the ground.
    And beneath it was a tomb.
  10. He hefted its impractically heavy lid of the coffin and dragged it away.
    Within the casket was the cadaver of a dwarven king. Beside him a sword had been ceremoniously lay. And on his chest was a segmented crystal, scintillating wildly as though it had a life force. The Arkenstone. Heart of the mountain. Lay upon the still chest of Thorin Oakenshild, son of Thror, who was in turn son of Thrain.
    Balamir sent his foot careening into Thorin's jaw, and his chin imploded. Then Balamir extracted the Arkenstone.
    #10 BaskinJR, Dec 17, 2014
    Last edited: Dec 17, 2014
  11. Yulfus stood stock straight, and looked sideways at the lonely mountain. He raised his staff, and five Hawks flew towards him, picking him up by the staff and cloak. He arrived at Erebor, and headed straight for the caverns of the mountain. He found two dead dwarves and a dead man. He quicky arrived at the barracks, and notified the commander of the guard that an intruder was in the city.
  12. Akur stopped in panic as the alarm rose around the cave, and quickly grabbed his weapons. Hoisting his throwing axes in his shoulder, he held the hammer close in a tight grip as he charged towards the gate. Reaching it, he prepared with the others. Back to back with another, he kept a lookout for the enemy, but his non-observant self didnt know the enemy was already inside.


    Raknath refused to harm any bird or beast for food, and the entire aborning race, so instead they ate mostly cream and honey. His race was renowned for their excellent honey cakes, which they use to sell until the battles begun. In his bear form, he broke into a gallop as he reached his hives, and transformed back into human. The bees were calmed as he removed the honey and ran back to his hut. The honeycakes would soon be on the bake, and he would share them with his animal friends
  13. Vertruk was gruffly shunted into Erebor by the Gondorian guards. His gangly legs scrabbled as he attempted to escape the grip of the guards. The dwarven guards raised their eyebrows simultaneously. "What is this?"
    One Gondorian glared at them and growled. "You deal with him! You bloody deal with him!"
    They thrust Vertruk toward the dwarfish guards. "He's a menace to Gondor! He starts riots, threatens everyone with legal action and insists that lembas tastes better than honey cakes! We've had enough of him."
    The dwarfish guards exchanged dubious glances. "Alright, he can stay in the brig..."
    "Yes, thank you!" Cried the Gondorians in sheer amounted joy.
    Then there was a raucous uproar. Screams of orcs and dwarves, originating from within Erebor.
    Vertruk grinned. "Allow me to redeem myself. Orcs are obviously sacking this place. I know how they think... I can assist in dispatching them. Then, I can go free. Is that a deal?"
    The dwarves and men reluctantly agreed.
  14. Amidst the chaos, Balamir strolled leisurely from Erebor, Arkenstone tucked under his arm. He saddled his horse and promptly left.

    Vertruk gingerly stepped onto the chamber where the attacking Uruk-Hai had congregated. Corpses of dwarves lay draped all around. The Uruk-Hai scrutinised the air with intense snorts. Their gaze rested on Vertruk.
    Vertruk waved affectionately. "Hello, friends! Do you guys want some mead? I know I could do with some mead."
    They obviously weren't in the mood for alcoholic beverages. One leaped in a hostile flurry toward Vertruk.
    The young orc's eyes widened. "What in Isildur's name are you doing?" He stepped deftly to the side and swung his mace into the joint at the back of the Uruk's knee. It was a feeble, laughable blow, but it was a strike to a vital point. The Uruk collapsed, and Vertruk shoved a mead bottle into the felled intruder's mouth. The caliginous liquid inside rushed in a torrential flow into the Uruk's throat, and it passed out, drunk off of its mind.
    Vertruk grinned deviously at the shocked rabble of orcs. "How's that?"
  15. Akur was confused, where was the enemy? He walked out, and tried to run to the side of Erebor. Eventually he reached it, the sun now finally off the horizon, and in the misty distance, the small outline of a horse slowly faded away. He swore in the dwarf tongue, and hurried back to warn the officials


    Raknath gently pushed the tray of the cake into the oven with his ironic bear mitts, and closed the door, adjusting the temperature and the alarm. He went outside with a smile as he chucked a spare honeycomb onto the ground, squirrels and mice scuttled towards it, and birds caught pieces in the air. Forming into a bear, birds landed on his back as he moved forward. But suddenly, the peacefulness was interrupted. Silence spread across the ridges as the birds flew away, and squirrels ran to their trees. Something was coming.
  16. Balamir tossed the Arkenstone to Saruman, and the wizard clasped it in his archaic hands.
    Balamir scowled. "There, you happy?"
    Saruman smirked. "Very." Then he frowned. "Where are the Uruk-Hai?"
    "They're catching up. They should be burning the settlements at this moment."
    Saruman dislodged the jewel from his staff and discarded it. It sailed out of the window and fragmented at the foot of Orthanc. Then, Saruman fixed the Arkenstone into the slot, it's millions of facets projecting showers of brilliance throughout the tower. "Perfect. The heart of the mountain is in my possession."
  17. The generals summoned the outraged dwarves of Erebor. Aruk, a mug of mead in hand joined the shouting crowd. General Bor stood in front urging the dwarves to simmer down.
    "We have bad news," the general said, his voice booming across the town. "The Arkenstone has been stolen," he said quitely. Roars and boos spread discord around the group. "But... The dwarves will not stand for this. Savages came and stole it, but we will stand up and crush them!" Cheers arose as the group grappled for hope. "We will show them the true power of Erebor! Tonight we will get our weapons, and drink to our success!" Cheers erupted like a volcano from the people, spreading the noise for miles around. Aruk sighed and attempted to say they needed to go now. Shoving and pushing his way to General Bor, he yelled out to him over the cheers and chatter,
    "The Uruk-hai are already pillaging the villages, whoever took the Arkenstone will beyond reach in less than a day! There's no time to spare!"
    "Relax Aruk, we will catch those savages," Bor said in a calm tune. Tossing him a coin he added, "Go by a beer and calm down," he said, walking off the stage. Akur tried to chase after him, but the ignorant general was lost in the crowd.


    Growling, his hackles raised, and grunted as he ran towards the ridge. Mist snorted from his wet nose, and Raknath peered closer. In the distance, a pillar of smoke rose from the burning village, and his pricked ears picked up screams. Raknath galloped towards the sound, and soon arrived. Eyes narrowed, he slowly pushed himself into a rage. Orcs. Charging forward, he smashed down one of the Uruk-hai with a single paw, and gripped one of the ambushed heads in its jaw. He hated orcs. Ripping its head off, blood dripped from his teeth as he growled, a Orc trembling in fear as it slowly raised its sword
  18. Vertruk sauntered through the festivities, grinning and snatching peoples' mead bottles.
    As per expected, he drew one too many stares. He wasn't your generic, run of the mill orc. Gangly, resourceful, not entirely illiterate...
    And orcs did not mingle well with the rest of society.
    A dwarf bumped him hostilely. "Oi you, scum!"
    Vertruk frowned. "Scum? Hardly. I basically commandeered Erebor and forced the Uruks out."
    "That's a lie... you got one of them drunk and slightly sore."
    "...that's besides the point."
    The dwarf attempted to size up Vertruk, but only constituted three quarters of the orc's height.
    Vertruk frowned. "I'm going to leave now."
    And leave he did, vanishing into the fray.
  19. ((I really need a thesasaurus :( ))

    Aruk constantly paced around in worry and fear. He was sensible compared to the others, slowly the population working it's way into a weakened state, known as being drunk. Moving through the throng of celebrating dwarves, he slipped towards the generals accomodation. Inattentive, he found himself stumbling into the legs of another citizen, and pulled back to apologise when he saw it wasn't another dwarf. An... Orc? But different, misformed and small comparatively to other orcs. Bluntly, he stated in surprise, "You are an Orc,"


    Raknath bellowed as he charged forward, the Uruk-hai slowly realising the ambush that was quickly plummeting the small raiding party. Wiping out a few more ignorant attackers, a shout raised from one of the orcs, as they slowly turned towards the dangerous bear. Catching glimpses of the villagers scuttle away into the distance, Raknath slowly started to back up as the party reformed to face the new threat. His small but sturdy head scanned the score of Uruk warriors, the group slowly trying to flatten out and circle him. Skidding to the side, he ran directly into them, knocking several into the air and heard the snap of a back bone. Running back, as the orcs raced towards him, they unconsciously grouped together, and Raknath swiftly broke the group, crushing them beneath his feet and batting another, with ones head gripped in its teeth. Cracking the Uruk's cranium, Raknath stopped for a second to relax. Ignoring a few running, he crouched down panting. They were gone.
  20. Vertruk frowned. "Indeed I am." He murmured boisterously to Aruk. "You have keen powers of observation." He said sarcastically. "And what about it?"
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